


Sister, dear

by 13atoms (2Atoms)



Series: Count Orlo (Oneshots) [1]
Category: The Great (2020), The Great (Hulu)
Genre: Defending Orlo because he's a pretty boy who deserves it, F/M, Fluff, Hidden Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:01:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24499867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/13atoms
Summary: As the Emperor's younger sister, you have your pick of the court. Unfortunately you love the only man who is firmly off limits, and you're sick of him being bullied by Peter.
Relationships: Count Orlo / Reader, Count Orlo x Reader
Series: Count Orlo (Oneshots) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770073
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	Sister, dear

“I’ve never seen a cock more wasted on a man than yours, Orlo!”

You watched the count shrink into himself, making his stature smaller as a ripple of laughter spread through the room.

‘ _I’m sorry_ ’, you mouthed.

Sat at Peter’s side, you were sure the Emperor wouldn’t catch the moment you shared with the bureaucrat. He was too busy laughing at his own jokes. Orlo had simply been trying to reason with the Emperor, interject a little sanity in this state dinner, which was quickly shifting into a party. And this was his reward.

Others soon joined in the game, and their harsh words made you wince. You couldn’t look at the hurt on his face anymore, letting the insults whistle past you unacknowledged.

“Ugly!” “Virgin!” “Lobcock!”

You wanted him to yell back, utilise some of the hard-won dirt he had on everyone in this room. But no. Ever the diplomat, he let them have their fun.

Peter was chattering away to a woman by his side, and you sipped at your champagne, waiting on the next course.

Dessert was sorbet, sickly sweet, and you struggled to eat it knowing Orlo was in pain. He didn’t touch the food either, listening as the General beside him muttered, occasionally slapping him on the back. Whatever Velementov was saying didn’t seem pleasant, if the grimace on Orlo’s face was anything to go by. You supposed to an outsider, it might look like a smile.

You weren’t an outsider, though.

You really knew him.

“Let us dance!” The Emperor’s voice boomed through the hall, and the members of the court rose to their feet, scrabbling to reach the ballroom.

The herd of nobles went ahead of you, before a footman helped you up from your chair. Peter shot you a concerned look as you waited for him to leave, hoping to slip away to your own apartments before the party got too raucous. No such luck.

“You’ll join the dancing tonight, sister. It’ll do you good.”

He wasn’t asking.

You certainly had no right to argue. Being the Emperor’s younger sibling had it’s advantages, but you feared it put you risk as much as it privileged you. Each day you dreaded his tone, his anger, his reaction if he found out about you and Orlo. Best keep it quiet.

“Might find a husband, too.” He taunted.

You rolled your eyes, moving to swat at him slowly enough that he could stop you. Actually landing a blow hadn’t been funny since he began leading Russia, and the power had gone to his head.

“I doubt it,” you mumbled.

Orlo tended to skip these things.

But low and behold, there he was. Stood in the corner, likely forced to join in the festivities by an astoundingly drunk Velementov. Your heart sank at the thought of him watching you dance with all these noblemen. He didn’t need to feel any worse tonight.

After few tunes, your dances shared with various different members of the court, you were shocked to find yourself face to face with Orlo. You held him in a slowdancer’s hold – the dance was a more languid one – and he gripped your waist in a similar fashion to the other men. Albeit very tightly.

You rolled your eyes at the laughter of Peter behind you, trying to apologise to Orlo without speaking, anticipating what horrors might come out of your brother’s mouth as he shouted across the ballroom.

“Watch out, sister dearest! I’m not sure Orlo has ever touched a real woman before! He might arrive on your skirts.”

Surrounded by the drunken laughter of the court, you felt Orlo tense up under your hands. Before you could think to hesitate, you shouted back.

“I assure you, he has been with a real woman!”

Peter snorted, and Orlo’s hands left your bodice. You could sense the panic in him, and he hissed your name as you spun to face your brother.

“He’s rather good with his hands, too.”

“Stop,” you heard the count whispering, trying to calm you down. “Please.”

“Oh, is he? Makes up for the face, I suppose.”

The emperor tilted his head and scowled, like he was considering it.

“Been fucking the servants, have you Orlo? You’ll start rumours like that.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. In the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by the very people you’d hidden from for months, you kissed him.

Orlo squawked, doing very little to assert his manliness as you pulled his hands back to your waist. You made a point to disconnect your lips with a _smack_ , before calling back to your brother. The room was silent now, even the musicians were listening in.

“Certainly not the servants, Peter. He’s far too good in bed for that.”

“Christ,” the Emperor groaned. You’d clearly caught him off guard, the shock on his drunken face would be funny, were you not so afraid for the Count.

You held tight to Orlo, feeling how he tried to get away from you. The instinct to feign unfamiliarity was strong. You’d both had enough time spent pretending to be strangers in court whilst you were privy to each other’s bodies and souls in private. It was second nature to hide.

“You are far too pretty for that man,” he marched over to the pair of you, and you separated in shock. “Get away at once.”

“I disagree. He’s particularly pretty with his face between my legs,” you stuck your chin out in defiance, a little undermined by Orlo’s gasp. “And with his cock out. It’s rather impressive.”

“I didn’t even know he had one!” Velementov was too drunk to stand, but he still called across the room. Peter smirked.

“Well then, it’s always the quiet ones I suppose.”

You thought the Emperor might leave, let things be, when he turned away for just a quick second. You should have known better. Orlo cried out as Peter gave him a hard blow to the stomach, making him double over. You rushed to support him, putting yourself between your lover and the Emperor, glaring up at your brother.

He sniffed in amusement, before patting Orlo on the shoulder.

“Fair fucking play.”


End file.
